Fic: Rest: G
May. 10th, 2018 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spacemutineer posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_minorTitle: Rest
Form: 221B
Characters/Pairings: Holmes & Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: alcohol
Summary: After returning from his hiatus and death itself, Holmes settles in and finds what he had been missing.
I slept for an age. I had forgotten what it felt like to truly sleep, to relax and drift away without mortal tension gnawing at the back of one's mind. Similarly, I had forgotten what being drunk felt like, being well and truly inebriated with a companion long-lost, our inhibitions lowered and our camaraderie as easy as it ever was. Did he know how much I had missed him? Could he tell? In the end, it was unimportant. He had forgiven me. I knew he would and equally I knew he should not. However necessary, some wounds are too deep to ever fully heal. I have been acquainted with a surgeon and an injured man long enough to know that. Patients and friendships can easily perish under such powerful lingering strain.
But my Watson forgave me as I knew he would, and we drank and laughed and I fell asleep in my chair beside him. I left my name and life behind never expecting I would survive to return to them, yet here they were waiting as if I had never left. My friend led me to my own bed in my own home in my own city where I slept that night and all the following day. For the first time in three long years I rested, soul and body.
Form: 221B
Characters/Pairings: Holmes & Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: alcohol
Summary: After returning from his hiatus and death itself, Holmes settles in and finds what he had been missing.
I slept for an age. I had forgotten what it felt like to truly sleep, to relax and drift away without mortal tension gnawing at the back of one's mind. Similarly, I had forgotten what being drunk felt like, being well and truly inebriated with a companion long-lost, our inhibitions lowered and our camaraderie as easy as it ever was. Did he know how much I had missed him? Could he tell? In the end, it was unimportant. He had forgiven me. I knew he would and equally I knew he should not. However necessary, some wounds are too deep to ever fully heal. I have been acquainted with a surgeon and an injured man long enough to know that. Patients and friendships can easily perish under such powerful lingering strain.
But my Watson forgave me as I knew he would, and we drank and laughed and I fell asleep in my chair beside him. I left my name and life behind never expecting I would survive to return to them, yet here they were waiting as if I had never left. My friend led me to my own bed in my own home in my own city where I slept that night and all the following day. For the first time in three long years I rested, soul and body.
